Tryna follow my intuition as I’m on this million dollar mission Mama told me I was special, thank God I listened My environment never let me be a pretender Similar interest with them dope boys but I was different The hoop dreaming lonely child, hung around Hyde park, Chatham and the Stony Isle Pimps, players, gang wars, living in a lonely town Who can I relate to? Feeling like the Golden child, Chi city culture Full of pain, full of soul singers Dead bodies in our rivers but their souls linger A young black man living with unrealistic dreams But luckily I’ve seen some unrealistic things A child from the city took the good route Always fit in and always stood out, complex Layered, rather show you than say it Though I know my greatness is always understated Mama working 12 hours days on her feet Coming home, cooking dinner, made her son wanna weep My step father working while I’m zoning the beats Meanwhile my biological was roaming the streets Tryna be an entertainer, but my heart held love, no anger He out there tryna be a singer I guess this just the life I was made for
Posted on: Tue, 24 Jun 2014 12:47:12 +0000